In My Own Crazy Way
by Rose G
Summary: Silk shows another side to his character while remembering Bethra and a few shared memories...


In My Own Crazy Way

Rose G

Disclaimer - All these characters belong to David Eddings. The song and the title, belong to Rod Stewart.

A/N - This is set during King of the Murgos, their first night out of Tol Honeth after Silk went on his killing spree to avenge Bethra. It's just a little scence showing, hopefully, a bit more about their relationship and why Silk felt his killing spree to be necessary.

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You won't believe these words from me

But still they're mine to say:

I will always love you, 

In my own crazy way.

~~~Rod Stewart, My Own Crazy Way~~~

Garion nudged his bay with his heels, just to remind the stallion who was boss; and briefly wished that he was riding Eriond's chestnut that was behaving perfectly in the rain. Once the stallion had stopped arching his back, he pushed him into a trot and caught up with Polgara, who was riding slightly ahead of him. 

'Do you think that Silk's alright, Aunt Pol?' Silk's peculiar behaviour had been bothering since they left Tol Honeth early that evening. 

'What, Kheldar? He's feeling sorry for himself, Garion. I know what he feels like, and so does Ce'Nedra. She was like this for the first few days when Geran went missing, wasn't she?' Her brisk practically comforted him as it always had done and he nodded.

The Overlord of the West pulled ahead of Polgara, slapping the bay on his crested neck as he threatened to buck, and resumed his careful watch of the snow covered ground that was getting boggy and the little weasel featured man who led the column at a slow walk. Silk had taken the lead immediately after crossing the river, his face curiously blank, his voice impassive, although his blue-grey eyes showed a flicker of grief that he could not hide. The wiry grey that he rode was lathered, whip wheals on its heaving flanks where Silk had driven it on at a gallop when anyone neared him. 

Pity rose in Garion's throat, knowing that whatever he was enduring did not come close to Silk's agony, because he might - _would _- see Geran again, whereas Bethra was dead and gone, in a horrific fashion. Even his anger for Silk's treatment of his mount faded away, as the nature of Silk's pain became clear to him. Ce'Nedra pulled her pretty chestnut mare up alongside Garion, her tiny hand pressing on his shoulder. 'What's the matter with Silk, Garion? Why doesn't he cry?' 

'Because we're here, I think. He spent two days dodging round Tol Honeth, killing people and hiding, so he didn't have time to think and now... He won't cry until he's alone.' Garion shook his head sorrowfully and took Ce'Nedra's tiny hand in his as they rode, just to prove to himself that she was still there, still alive in the face of death. If the others saw them, they did not comment on it.

He flinched though, when Silk's grey stumbled and the merchant lashed out with his hand. As they rode on though, Garion realised that Silk's shoulders were slumped, and he was no longer guiding his grey. He shook his reins at his bay, but Eriond was suddenly at Silk's side, taking his reins and leading him on at a steady walk. Eriond's blue eyes looked regretful, yet they was something else in them - an awareness that this would not last forever, and it was not an expression that Garion expected to see on the face of someone so young. 

Later that evening, when him and Durnik returned to the campsite with firewood, Garion saw Polgara standing and talking with Silk near the food packs. Her familiar voice brought a smile to his face but his youthful face soon sobered. 'Kheldar, what would you like for supper?'

'Anything, Polgara. I don't really want to eat but if you're going to insist...' He stalked away towards where Toth was building a fire pit, his jaw set and Garion had the strange feeling that the Guide was either crying or attempting not to. 

After supper, Durnik abandoned his usual policy of never questioning others about things that had nothing to do with him and made a direct effort to talk to Silk although Garion felt sure that him, Polgara or Belgarath could have the drawn the information from Silk's mind without any trouble. 'Silk, who was Bethra? What was she like?' From the dull flush on Durnik's cheeks, it was blindingly obvious that he remembered exactly what sort of woman she was. 

'She was a fantastic woman - clever, friendly, beautiful. She-she...' His voice, which had been full of pain broke and several minutes passed in silence. 'I met her in the Academy, when we both there. Quarter of a century ago or more now. Sugar, they called her. Silk and Sugar....'

'Was she a relation of yours, Kheldar?' Velvet, the member of the group who Garion knew the least, asked.

'Not a relation, no. We spent three years working together at the Academy - I never had any real family so I was close to everyone there. Very close to some of them...I guess you could say a friend, an extremely close friend...' Silk stopped talking, his steel grey eyes hard and unfathomable, his breath rasping harshly in his throat as he fought with emotions that were unfamiliar to him. 

He cast a sudden glance at Garion, a dreadful longing in his eyes. 'Garion, in the cave that time you brought Eriond's stallion back from the dead. And you and the Orb brought Durnik back. Why couldn't you do the same for Bethra? Even if it was only a minute...'

Pity rose in Garion's throat. 'I can't, Silk. It's impossible, she was injured too badly. No one could do it, Silk, she'd only die again. I'm sorry.' Silk's face paled even further, tears beginning to stand in his eyes.

'You must have admired her a great deal, friend Silk, to miss her this much' Durnik noted.

'I was close to her for many years, Durnik. Growing up and working together brings people close together, doesn't it? Spying's a lonely job, and you can't ever trust anyone but me and her had an understanding. I trusted her. And, I guess that I thought one day maybe I could settle down, when the game wasn't exciting anymore and I was sick of trying to stitch up merchants all over the world, I could retire to Tol Honeth or somewhere and we could see each other or something.'

'How close?' Garion asked before he saw Belgarath glowering at him, then bit his lip and hoped that Silk hadn't heard the question.

'I loved her, all right, Garion? Does that make you happy, knowing that? I was in love with her.' Silk shouted the last sentence. 'I don't know what she thought, because I never told her, and her job was getting men to like her.'

Durnik looked as surprised as Garion felt at hearing this from the merchant but Polgara, as in control as ever walked over to Silk and held him in a way that both Garion and Eriond recognised from their boyhood. Silk clung to her desperately, as Durnik edged respectfully away from the clearing, closely followed by Toth. Garion was surprised though, to see the faint smile on Velvet's face - a smile that was partly regretful but also triumphant as though an enemy had been defeated. 

Garion felt tears spring to his own eyes at Silk's wail of despair and his noisy sobs, and he felt something in his mind that was hard to describe. It was not sorcery that he could recognise, rather a deep regret tempered by a knowledge of inevitability. And then he understood that this was something that had had to happen, and the dry voice in his mind, while accepting that, regretted it because it pained Silk, its servant. 

Eventually, Silk stopped crying and Polgara looked at him with no hint of her usual brashness while practicing medicine. 'Is there anything you'd like now, Kheldar?'

'A drink...Some ale, please...' 

Belgarath didn't have the heart to make any cracks about Alorns and their drinking habits, and silently handed the water skin to Polgara. She lifted it to Silk's lips, holding it so that he could drink. Garion noted the slight flush on Silk's tear stained face, suspecting that he resented this treatment although it could not be helped. 

Silk shuddered then, his eyes suddenly going wild. 'Polgara, what did you put in that ale?' She smiled, laid one restraining hand on his shoulder.

'Something that'll make you sleep, Kheldar. You won't have any dreams tonight and it might seem better tomorrow. It's better this way.'

Silk opened his mouth a few times before he fell into sleep, obviously trying to protest but for once, he lost his fight. But to anyone listening to him that night would have heard his drug slurred whisper - 'I loved you, Bethra. In my own way, I did.' And maybe they would also have heard Eriond's answer 'She knew that, Kheldar.' 


End file.
